


We Will See

by Grigiocuore



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gal takes Care of His King, M/M, Slight Hurt/Comfort, really so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 01:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3958540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grigiocuore/pseuds/Grigiocuore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know that fairytale thing, with the princess being saved and squeaking and fainting? Well, it seems Richard covered the last part too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Will See

**We will see**

Galavant was marching along the Castle’s corridor and plunged through the Hall’s doors in grim silence, with jaw set and all the pleasantness of someone who had just swallowed a rotten lemon. He had undergone exactly the same procedure one year before, but back then the circumstances had been wildly different and the collaboration on the guards’ part way less pronto. One element had however stayed the same. 

It was all Richard’s fault. 

The Throne room was eerily deserted .Gareth was waiting by the door with a scowl sourer than usual. Gal slowed down the necessary to talk. 

-Is he all right?- 

-Yep.- 

-Where?- 

The scowl deepened. -The rear room. With the surgeon.- 

-The ambassadors?- 

-Back to their rooms. Scheduling another encounter.- 

-Very well. Let’s go.- 

Gareth fell behind Gal without a word. Step, step, breathe. Galavant was trying very hard not to think, and still almost tripped on himself marching – _running_ \- to the rear arch. Step. He rushed past it. Turned wildly. 

Richard was sitting on a chest against the wall, looking paler than usual and significantly less smug. He made a weak smirk as the man hunched on him took his pulse. 

-Oh, hi, Gal-de- 

-You _stay put_.- Gal growled. Gareth’s groan echoed in agreement. 

The surgeon, Master Eustace, an indefinably elder gentleman with clever pal eyes and thin limbs, considered the furious warriors closing over him with a dispassionate smile. 

-So?- Gal spat. He greatly liked the man. He greatly liked the man and under any other circumstance he would never act so rude, but right now he couldn’t help himself. He would be gentle afterwards. He would buy the man a damn castle if everything was okay. 

-Oh, his Majesty seems fine, Master Galavant.- Master Eustace replied. -All the evidences point to a simple fainting episode originated from exhaustion. I suppose the latest months’ happenings could take a tool even on a tough fibre as the King’s one.- 

From his perch on the chest, Richard discretely cleared his throat. 

–See, there is nothing- 

- _You stay put_.- He and Gareth answered in sync. They both ignored Richard’s mortified face. 

-What do you advise now, Master Eustace?- 

-Ah, nothing odd: some days of rest, nourishing meals and few turmoils. I’ve taken care of the King’s health since he was a toddler. He would be in perfect health in no time at all.- 

Galavant swallowed hard, blinking on a vaguely hazy world. Breathe. Oh Gods. _Oh thanks_. He was going to buy the man a goddamn castle. 

–Ah. Ah. I, thank you so much, Master Eustace.- He lost his voice. Tried again. -And my deepest apologies as well. I’m sorry for my. Lack of composure.- 

The elderly gentleman patted Gal’s armored hand. –Oh, do not worry about that, young man. I’ve experienced way worse manners in the exercise of my duties. Isn’t it right, Gareth?- 

Gareth let a non-compromising grunt. 

-Just make sure to keep him warm and put him back on his feet. It was my duty before. And it is even more now.- 

The healer smiled widely. Before they could fully grasp, he was bowing. 

\- Gareth, Master Galavant.- 

-Master Eastace.- 

He turned to Richard. 

–My liege. I suppose it is time for taking my leave.- 

-Ah, _sure_?- There was a hint of panic in the King’s voice, and by Master Eustace’s giggling as he scampered out of the room it was not lost. 

The steps lost in the distance. Gareth brushed Gal’s shoulder, hinting at the Hall. 

–I’m going to entertain those petty Southern idiots.- The finger imperiously slashed towards Richard. – _And you_. We’re gonna square things up later.- 

And with that Gareth swirled around in a rush of leather and grunts and stalked past the arch. The fact he had left him alone with the King after what happened was an utmost sign of trust. Gal didn't miss it. Since Richard's return to the throne the two of them had exchanged at best twenty sentences and not all of them exactly flattering, but apparently it didn’t matter. The thing they shared was something and a working something. Words were just not their language of choice. At this Richard had just thrown arms in the air and muttered a very unconvinced “whatever”. 

And that brought him back to the circumstance at hand. Gal felt the weariness of a week of training falling softly on his bones. Blood pumping, legs shaking. He dragged himself to the chest and half-slumped in front of it. He looked Richard in the eye. He was so furious he could barely speak. 

-So? What do you have to say?- 

The King had his hands folded in his lap, and was sitting as he should have done when caught eating the cake dough. He looked at him with a grayish face, eyes lined with ostentatious purple shades. Gal felt an equal urge to punch him and squeeze him to his chest. 

-Err. I’m sorry…?- 

Gal grunted. 

-I’m really sorry, Gal-dear.- 

Gal grunted _louder_. –Try again.- 

-I supposed I was just a bit anxious. I- 

-Why didn’t you tell me this morning you didn’t feel well?- 

-I thought it was not a big deal. There were the ambassadors of Ellas, I could not annul the meeting.- 

-And collapsing in the middle of the throne room is so much better, mh?- Gal barked. - Dammit, Richard, how can anyone be so dumb?- 

He knew he had screwed up as soon as he said it. He almost _felt_ Richard’s jerk. 

-You. You’re right, Gal. I’m a fool. I messed it up.- 

-It was not what I meant.- 

Richard looked down at the floor, lips tight. Gal cursed inwardly. He hated it. He hated the wariness he got then, the quiet stiffness in his face. Richard didn’t believe he would stay for real. Whenever Gal said he loved him he smiled and got all dorky and chirped “Oh Gal”, but he rarely believed him. Somewhere deep he was still sure one day something would come and he would just forget him. Surprisingly enough, King Richard was absolutely difficult to convince he was loved. 

Galavant sighed and stretched and gently pushed up Richard's chin. -Ehy. It was not what I meant.- He said again. –But damn, Richard. I’m your consort _and_ your Knights Captain. It’s kind of my role to prevent things like that from happening.- 

-I’m sorry for this. But I’m trying to be a decent king, Gal. Really. I want to do it, but I. I don’t exactly know how.- 

-I know, Rich.- 

It was all true. Some moments passed in silence. A door closed in the distance. 

-You’re still mad?- 

-Absolutely.- And he was. He was so mad, Gal thought while tenderly rubbing Richard’s hand. 

-I was worried sick, Rich.- He said softly. -When they called me for this, I. Dammit, Richard, if it wasn’t, I mean, if you. I.- 

He felt memories swelling around. Dad’s bed, a crippled thing twitching on it, _it’s just a fall, Gal, don’t worry, just a fall_ , and it was not it was not and _oh Dad_. He knew it was not the same thing, and yet. Oh Dad. Someone touched him through the ghosts. 

-Ehy. Ehy, calm down. I’m not that frail.- 

-Yes, but I. I. Give me a minute, all right?- 

Richard smiled. -Oh, Gal-dear.- 

He shuffled closer and spread arms and Gal leaned forward, holding each other. Richard’s heart pumped steadily against his ear, smell of soap as he brushed his hair. I’m here. I’m exactly here. You too. We’re safe. 

Gal closed his eyes and believed it. He drew back when the breathing against his neck began to suspiciously slow down. 

-Come on. Let’s go to bed.- 

The King jerked on the spot, blinking. -Uh? What?- 

-I’m getting you to bed. You can’t sleep on a damn chest.- 

-But the meeting- 

- _Richard_.- 

He raised hands in surrender. – _Fiiiiine._ No need to get all Butchy on me. Jeez, you spend way too much time with Gareth.- 

Gal groaned. Yep, he was absolutely right. -Can you walk?- 

-Of course I can.- Richard pulled himself up, swayed hard and passionately gripped the chest. By the time he slumped back his face had gotten cadaveric. 

– _Whoa_. Bad idea. Very bad idea.- 

Galavant grinned. -You’re such a klutz. Come here.- 

He leant in and swept Richard over. The King let a piercing yelp of surprise, pulling hard at Gal’s hair. The tenderness of it all was somehow lost to the excruciating pain spreading in his scalp. 

-Rich, _let go_. I’m just trying to carry you.- 

-Well, you should have warned me.- He bawled without conviction. His hands slowly slid down to Gal’s neck. He fidgeted a bit in his hold, adjusting. -Mh. You are _comfy_. You’re even comfier than Gare.- 

-I’m not going to take you around this way forever, know it.- 

-Mh. We’ll see.- 

He gracefully batted eyelashes, in a fashion that would be even charming if not for the overall corpse-like appearance. He plunged his nose in Gal’s neck. Richard’s body was a botch of long pointy bones, but somehow, it fitted well in Galavant's arms. It fitted very well. 

-C'mon, my knight. Let's go.- 

They took the rear stairs, although this wasn’t by any means the strangest thing the Castle servants had seen. Gal didn't quite care, however. He hadn't ever cared when questing for great things, he wouldn't start now. His bag of bones was worth of it. And he would show him he had no intention to go. He was a knight, Gal grinned climbing the last step, a bit of challenge was welcomed. They had time. He would show him. Gal held tighter. He would. 

-Of course Rich, it’s just for the stairs. Then you can walk to the room. Richard? _Richard_?- 

Silence. A soft snorting under his chin. Gal sighed. 

-Oh _, Hell.-_


End file.
